Peppermint Winter
by thesadchicken
Summary: The Cranes and Daphne decide to spend Christmas somewhere else for a change. Shenanigans ensue. Expect clumsiness and family being family.


**This story finds its backbone in the song "Peppermint Winter" by Owl City. Quite an amazing little tune.**

Niles tucked his toes beneath his blanket and blew on his fuming coffee. He folded his fingers over his mug to warm his hands. With a contented sigh, he took a sip and closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of breakfast in bed and savoring waking up late.

A sudden outburst of melodious, crystalline laughter caught his attention. He turned towards the window and set his mug down on the side-table next to his bed. The exquisite chuckle rose again, muffled by the walls but crystal-clear to Niles' ears. He pushed himself off the bed and slipped his feet into his soft burgundy slippers. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pajama pocket and ran it over the cold window glass to wipe away the mist that had gathered there. And there she was…

Daphne's delicate silhouette was outlined on the snowy landscape, her long dark coat pulled over her thin body and a red scarf wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair was held up in a loose bun, and her skin seemed to shine under the white winter sky.

This little vacation had been Daphne's idea. A few weeks before Christmas, she had cheerfully suggested they spend the holidays elsewhere this year. Since Frederick would be spending Christmas with his mother, Frasier's apartment would feel empty and lifeless without his youthful presence.

"Let's leave Seattle," Daphne had said, "let's rent one of those cozy little cottages in the countryside for a change."

When asked about her own family, Daphne's face had taken a strange expression. "Oh, you know," she had shrugged, "with all that's happening with me brothers and all… I think I'd prefer spending the holidays with you. If you don't mind, that is."

So here they were. Frasier had dug up a fairly expensive – though perhaps not expensive enough for Niles taste – cottage in the country and they had all been enchanted by the place; even Dad, who had been reluctant at first, had settled in and felt almost at home now.

Niles smiled to himself. This promised to be an exceptionally merry Christmas.

Down in the garden, Daphne was singing. Loudly. And although her choice of music didn't exactly meet Niles' approval, he figured he could get used to waking up to it every morning. She was alone down there, as far as he could surmise. Maybe she wanted some company…

...

Niles adjusted his collar and pulled on his coat sleeves. A quick glance at the mirror, an even quicker trip down the stairs and a cheery "good morning dad" later, he was at the door.

An icy breeze hit him as he stepped out onto the front porch. In front of him lay a sea of infinite whiteness, unperturbed in its complete stillness. The terrain expended onto a few desert meters and was hugged by a forest on both sides. Some kind of animal was chirping in the trees ahead, but other than that all was quiet.

For a moment, Niles felt… transported. He walked out into the snow, feeling it crunch under his feet. The air was chilly, but he had Daphne's hand-knitted scarf to keep him warm.

In an uncharacteristic outburst of spontaneity, he threw his head back and looked up at the sky. It felt like being weightless, floating above the ground, immersed in silver snowy bliss. But then something hit him rather hard on the _derriere_. Niles started, turning around quickly, only to find himself face to face with Daphne. There she stood, one hand covering her mouth, the other holding what appeared to be a snowball. Niles blinked back at her incredulously.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Crane," she said, barely containing her amusement, "but I really couldn't resist."

And nor could he resist her. She was simply lovely in her winter coat and mittens, looking happier than he'd seen her look in a while. So he smiled weakly and brushed his coat with the back of his hand.

"It's quite alright, Daphne. No harm done."

She stared at him in an odd way, with her head cocked to the side and her lips slightly parted. "Didn't you and Dr. Crane get into snowball fights when you were children?" she asked.

"No, not really," Niles replied a bit sheepishly.

"Oh," Daphne said softly, and she looked very sorry for him all of a sudden.

"I assure you we had a very happy childhood," Niles shrugged, "We just didn't participate in any extreme outdoor activities like bike-riding or snowball fights."

She seemed to ponder his words for a moment, then she crouched down and picked up a pile of snow.

"What are you doing?" Niles frowned.

"Me?" she smiled innocently, "why, nothing at all. Just enjoying the feel of the snow through me mittens."

"Oh, well in that case –" Niles said levelly, before being interrupted by a snowball that flew from her hands and hit him right in the knee. "What –?" he stuttered.

"Come on, Dr. Crane! I played faire, I didn't hit you above the waist!"

Oh. So she really wanted to –? But he didn't know how to play. Could he –? Well why not? He scooped up some snow and rolled it into a ball, his eyes fixed on Daphne's. Her expression was all playful competition and challenge and _goodness_ , Niles really could get used to this.

He threw his very first snowball with restrained force, unsure of how the game worked. This resulted in the newly constructed snowball landing a few centimeters in front of him.

Daphne laughed so loud she made Niles start with surprise. "Not bad for a first try," she said graciously, although it could've been ironical, Niles wasn't sure. "Try throwing like this," she added, tossing a snowball his way.

He dodged it swiftly and straightened up with a proud "ha!" of victory, only to be hit again by an expected blow to the hip. "Hey!" he cried, "that's not fair!"

"All's fair in snowball fights and war!" she laughed back at him in childish glee.

"I believe the exact quote is 'all is fair in _love_ and war' – hey!"

"Bet you can't catch me," she giggled.

"We'll see about that!" he smiled excitedly, a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He picked up another snowball and threw it with all his strength. It landed at Daphne's feet, but it was already improvement enough.

The fight went on from there with surprising simplicity. And although Niles took most the hits, he still thought it was the most fun he'd had in a long time. He was getting better at it too. There wasn't much to hide behind in the large, desert terrain, but he was very good at dodging Daphne's snowballs. Eventually he started showing off, especially after Daphne told him he was 'actually very graceful, twirling around like that'. Oh yes, he was definitely good at avoiding those merciless throws. He pirouetted a few times, jumped over and ducked under many snowballs. Psychiatry wasn't his special talent, this was!

At least that's what he thought until he tried an elaborate variation of a twirl and tripped on his own feet. He fell on his face with a high-pitched shriek, losing a shoe in the process. How very graceful indeed.

When he came back to his senses, he pushed himself onto his back with a wince. As he looked up, he noticed Daphne running towards him, looking very concerned.

"Dr. Crane!" she called out, "are you alright?"

He didn't have the time to warn her about his shoe before she slipped on it and was flung onto the ground – well, not exactly the ground, since the upper half of her body fell onto Niles, her face landing a few inches away from his.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Niles' heart threatened to leap right out of his chest. Daphne was biting her lower lip, her cheeks were tinted pink and her eyebrows were raised in surprise. Her bun had fallen loose onto her shoulders and her hair was slightly disheveled. She looked stunning. She took his breath away.

"Oh, err – I'm sorry, Dr. Crane, I must've – I think I slipped on something…" she said, her eyes never leaving his, and Niles just about gave up on calming his pounding heart.

"Um, yes, I lost my shoe when I fell, it might be that," he replied, carefully avoiding any brisk movements, hoping she'd stay there forever.

"Oh," she smiled, "I'll go and get it for you then. Wouldn't want you to freeze to death."

He almost protested, but she was already on her feet before he could even begin to formulate a proper response. He pushed himself off the ground with a sigh, feeling considerably colder now that the warmth from the physical activity – not to mention Daphne's proximity – had subdued.

Daphne found the missing shoe, picked it up and handed it to him with an adorable giggle. "Here you go," she said.

"Thank you," he took the shoe, blushing at his clumsiness.

He endeavored to put the shoe back on, balanced on one shaky leg, and he would've fallen on his backside if Daphne hadn't held him firmly by the elbow. Once his foot safely and warmly clad in wool-stuffed leather, Niles straightened up, feeling a bit more ridiculous with every passing moment. He was about to say something witty to erase his previous disgrace when Daphne gasped.

"Is it snowing?" she asked, spreading her hands palms-up towards the sky.

"It is," Niles said, catching a snowflake on the tip of his finger, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Granny Moon used to say that if it snowed on Christmas Eve, you ought to run outside, stand on your tiptoes, close your eyes and make a wish. It'll come true that very night."

Niles nodded, and it was stupid, it really was, but he felt like believing Granny Moon's stories for once.

So he stood on his tiptoes, facing the snowy sky, and he closed his eyes. He felt the snowflakes nipping at his nose and cheeks, and he wished with all his might for Daphne to be happy each and every day of her life.

And maybe Granny Moon was right, because he felt a comforting sort of warmth envelop him at that moment. It was bright and magical and it felt exactly like floating…

Something cold slithered down his back. Something freezing slid all the way down his coat; something that felt suspiciously like snow. Niles screeched in agony, jumped up and down, wiggled helplessly in a failed attempt at getting the snow out of his clothes, but even through his distress he could still hear Frasier's familiar howling laughter behind him.

Once the initial panic passed, Niles turned around and glared at his brother, who was wailing in amusement. "You should've seen the way you leaped into the air like a frightened Baboon!"

Niles rolled his eyes. "That's very mature, Frasier," he scowled, feeling more than a little humiliated and aching for a hot bath.

Daphne was standing behind Frasier, obviously trying hard not to laugh.

"Don't be such a stick-in-the-mud, Niles. I was just having fun," Frasier managed to calm his laughter long enough to say.

"Yes, Dr. Crane, that's the classic snow-down-the-coat trick. Never gets old, that one," Daphne chuckled.

"Well I'm glad you both found it so amusing," Niles pouted.

Frasier opened his mouth to say something but Dad's voice came out instead (of course, Dad was actually speaking from inside the cottage, and not out of Frasier's mouth, as Niles realized a second later.)

"Frasier! Did you leave the door open?" Dad shouted out the window.

"I might have," Frasier yelled back, wide-eyed, "why do you ask?"

"I can't find Eddie –" Dad started, and was interrupted by a muffled bark coming from the forest ahead.

"Oh God," Frasier ran off after Eddie, into said forest.

"' _Rira bien qui rira le dernier'_ ," Niles snickered.

...

The fireplace rumbled and creaked, casting shadows on the walls as the sun disappeared under the horizon. Four mugs of hot chocolate and a bowl of dog food lay discarded on the small wooden table. The Christmas tree twinkled with tiny blue and yellow lights, and 'Let it Snow' was being played on the piano.

Sitting on the floor like a five-year old, Niles was opening his presents. So far, he'd received a pair of green socks from Frasier, red socks from Dad, and even a pair of purple ones from Eddie – Dad had insisted that the dog had chosen them itself, although Niles highly doubted that.

To be fair, he had given Frasier a pair of socks too. And Dad had received the same thing. They'd promised to keep it light this year: no fancy presents, nothing excessively expensive, no competition whatsoever. Just a nice, simple Christmas spent together as a family. And it seemed like nobody was very imaginative when it came to modest presents. Of course, Niles had bought Daphne expensive jewels, but that didn't count.

He was presently opening Daphne's present. He wasn't surprised to discover a pair of blue socks. He held them up, pretending to admire them, then slowly lowered them into their box and smiled up at Daphne. "They're wonderful. Thank you, Daphne."

She smiled back at him. "They're hand-knitted. There's even a little surprise at the bottom, look."

He flipped the socks over and noticed initials knitted in white at the bottom. "'M.C'?" he asked, unable to keep the hope out of his voice, "as in 'Moon-Crane'?"

"That's an 'N'," Daphne corrected him.

"Oh, of course. My initials. How foolish of me," Niles nodded, clearing his throat.

There was an awkward silence; interrupted only by Dad singing 'Jingle Bells' while Frasier accompanied him on the piano, and all the while Niles had one question on his mind.

"Daphne, are you happy?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Are you happy?"

"Happier than I've been in a while," she smiled sweetly.

Niles watched the way the Christmas lights were reflected in Daphne's dark eyes, and he wondered… Maybe Granny Moon's stories were true, after all.

 **Merry Christmas everyone!**


End file.
